


how it feels when the feeling goes

by Suicix



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe, Break Up, Falling Out of Love, Internal Conflict, Introspection, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 13:55:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13101603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suicix/pseuds/Suicix
Summary: Things are good. Youngjae can’t complain – wouldn’t dream of complaining in a million years. It’s just a question of whether things are right for him, and as good to him as Jaebum is – as Jaebum’s always been – sometimes it feels like the answer to that question might not be yes.





	how it feels when the feeling goes

Things are good. Youngjae can’t complain – wouldn’t dream of complaining in a million years. It’s just a question of whether things are right for him, and as good to him as Jaebum is – as Jaebum’s always been – sometimes it feels like the answer to that question might not be yes.

Youngjae tries not to think about it. How is this not what he wants, what he needs? Anyone else would be falling over themselves for a boyfriend like Jaebum. And Youngjae was, all those months ago when they first met. He’d crack a smile at almost anything Jaebum said, would go out of his way to try and impress him. He memorised just about anything Jaebum told him – things he loves, things he hates, everything in between – and memorised the press of Jaebum’s hands and lips when it was time for them to touch and kiss.

If Youngjae thinks about it hard enough, he can almost feel it. A hand in his, or one in his hair, on his shoulder, and Jaebum’s mouth warm against his skin. Just the thought of it used to make Youngjae’s heart start beating faster – used to make him smile to himself and blush, hoping it’d go unnoticed if he was in public. Now, it isn’t the same. It’s just another touch, just another kiss. There are no butterflies. There’s no grand explosion of fireworks.

What Youngjae tells himself is that this is just the end of the honeymoon phase. You can only wear rose-coloured glasses for so long, after all: eventually, you need to take a break from everything being the same shade of pink. That’s what he tells himself, even though he knows that the honeymoon period actually ended a while ago. He’s been seeing things as they are, in their natural colours, for some time now. Why have things changed? Why doesn’t he want this anymore?

The other thing he tries to tell himself is that maybe, it’s _this_ that’s the phase. The butterflies have by some impossible feat of nature regressed back into caterpillars, and now they’re in cocoons again, waiting to be able to spread their wings and break free. It was a faulty box of fireworks, one that hardly managed to light up the sky, but the next one will be just as impressive as usual, shooting off into the air in a brilliant display of colour and light. Just a blip in Youngjae’s feelings, and soon things will be back to normal.

Weeks go by. Life continues just as it’s always done, and Youngjae wills himself to pay no mind to the fact that nothing seems to be changing. Jaebum isn’t changing, because there’s nothing there _to_ change – he’s himself: his caring, dependable self – and Youngjae’s feelings aren’t doing a one-eighty, as much as he anticipates it coming.

They go on karaoke dates and movie dates and café dates. They spend time together with other friends, Jaebum’s affection there for everyone to see in casual touches and private jokes. They spend days and nights in each other’s homes, each other’s beds, and Youngjae lets Jaebum believe that they’ll be each other’s futures. He’s reminded how well Jaebum knows his body, his mind, and it feels like he’d be foolish to let go of this, especially with how well he knows Jaebum in return. He has a good time, because he always does with Jaebum, but it’s not the same as it once was. He finally starts to wonder if he should say something.

He should. It’s only fair to Jaebum.

When Youngjae suggests that they meet, Jaebum’s agreeable, if a little surprised that Youngjae wants them to meet outside in December. Even though they’ll be out in the open, it’s somehow still more private than a coffee shop where people are prone to eavesdropping, and Youngjae decided against either of their apartments immediately. He doesn’t want either of them to be plagued by memories of the break up itself just by being in a certain room. He wouldn’t do that to Jaebum; he’s not cruel. Plus, there are the people they live with to consider: Jinyoung in Jaebum’s case, and Youngjae’s brother in Youngjae’s.

They meet in the park. Youngjae’s hands shake as he waits for Jaebum – partly because of the cold, partly because he’s nervous – and he stuffs them into his coat pockets. He very specifically isn’t wearing the scarf Jaebum bought him for his birthday. He thinks it’d feel like even more of a betrayal if he did.

Jaebum’s five minutes late. Youngjae knows he shouldn’t resent Jaebum for it, but he does, just a little: he just wants to get this over with.

Eventually, a figure approaches, carrying a cardboard tray with two paper cups on it. Usually, it’s a sight that would make Youngjae smile, but right now, his heart sinks. By the time they’re done here, Youngjae wouldn’t blame Jaebum if he wanted to throw Youngjae’s drink in his face.

“Youngjae-yah!”

Youngjae takes a hand out of a pocket to wave at him. When Jaebum’s close enough, his smile’s as bright as the winter sun, that crisp kind of sunlight that feels even warmer in the cold. They greet each other, and suddenly, Youngjae’s grateful for the tray of drinks. He’s sure that Jaebum would be wrapping an arm around him if it wasn’t there.

“Here.” Jaebum passes one of the drinks over. Youngjae thanks him; at least it’ll keep his hands warm. “I thought we could use these. Why did you insist on coming out here, huh? Romantic winter walk in the park? I guess the sun’s out today, at least.”

Youngjae considers that as a possibility: the two of them hand in hand as they make their way around the park and their drinks in the other. It would be so easy to say yes, that was his plan, that’s what he wants from this afternoon. So easy to carry on as they are, to keep that smile on Jaebum’s face.

But he can’t. Jaebum has to know.

“That’s… not exactly it,” says Youngjae. That isn’t it at _all,_ really. “We need to talk. Or, I need to talk to you.”

“Oh?” Jaebum furrows his brow. “Well, what do you want to say?”

This is it. Youngjae takes a deep breath.

“I think we should break up,” he says, straight to the point. He looks Jaebum in the eye as he does, and though it feels like a weight’s been lifted off of his shoulders, he doesn’t like the fact that at the same time, it feels like he’s carelessly let that very weight fall onto Jaebum and crush him.

“What?” The complete shock on Jaebum’s face is impossible to miss. “Why? Whatever it is, I’ll change it. Just let me know when I’m doing something wrong and we can sort it out. We can work it out, yeah? I know–”

“It’s not you, hyung,” Youngjae interrupts. “I’m pretty sure it’s me.” It’s a cliché and he knows it: everyone blames themselves when they’re trying to let their partner down easy. The difference, Youngjae thinks, is that he actually means it.

“Everybody says that.” Jaebum knows it, too.

“No, really. It’s me. I – I think I fell out of love.”

This time, Jaebum’s silent. In between them, his breath is visible in the cold air. It emphasises the silence, Youngjae thinks.

“Maybe… we can still be friends?” Youngjae offers, sheepish and pathetic. God. He hates this. Jaebum’s hurt is written all over his face.

“Maybe.” Jaebum’s voice is quiet, so small, and Youngjae feels awful, hates what he’s reduced Jaebum to. He wishes he could take what he said back, but he can’t. Not when it’s the truth.

“I’m so sorry, Jaebum-hyung.” Youngjae means it. He really, really means it.

“It’s OK.” Jaebum tries for a smile, but it’s a weak one. “You can’t help how you feel.” He steps forward, then. Presses a kiss to Youngjae’s cheek, lets it linger. “I love you, Youngjae-yah.”

Youngjae nods, a barely-there incline of his head.

“And I loved you, too.” He means that just as much. The silence that follows is resounding.

“I should go. I’ll see you, I guess.” Jaebum squeezes Youngjae’s arm, and with that, he’s off. Youngjae watches him leave, waits until Jaebum’s gone from his line of sight before heading home himself.

On the way back, he puts headphones in and tries to focus only on the music and nothing else, and definitely, definitely not Jaebum. He tries not to think about whatever Jaebum seemed to be planning for next week, tries not to think about their mutual friends. Tries not to think about Jaebum’s birthday next month or the fact that soon enough, Jinyoung will have heard all about this.

The coffee’s gone cold by the time Youngjae gets back, and he only managed to drink half of it. He feels bad that Jaebum wasted his money on him. Feels bad that there are things in his room that belong to Jaebum, things that Jaebum might never get back.

Still, there’s so much of Youngjae that Jaebum will always have, too. Whichever of his belongings that are still there somewhere in Jaebum’s apartment. His first real relationship that lasted beyond a month or so or a couple of dates. Secrets that he never told anyone else, things he whispered to Jaebum in the quiet and darkness of night. It meant a lot to him, and will continue to. He hopes Jaebum knows that much, at least.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading, everyone - you can also find me on tumblr @ vibetechs and on twitter @gotsevenses


End file.
